Choice of Affection
by andinify
Summary: AU. When the stake of friendship was too high to risk for a confession of affectionate sentiment, Maxon was put in a circumstances where the said confession was inevitable. One-shot.


_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own The Selection Trilogy, nor do I own the song __**Heartbreak Girl **__by 5 Seconds To Summer and the tumblr picture-set I found where the idea for this piece of work based on._

* * *

It was eleven PM when his phone buzzed. He was busy with his newest project and about to ignore it when he saw the caller ID. In no time, the phone was already wedged between his shoulder blade and his ear, his hands still busy on the keyboard.

"Ames? What is it? Don't tell me you're terrified already with the zombie in-"

"No, Maxon,"

And it took only her choking out his name that become his undoing. He stood up abruptly, the chair made a scrapping sound loudly on the floor. Quickly, Maxon dropped to his bed, panic washed all over him as he looked frantically for his motorcycle key buried somewhere in the mess of sheet and blanket. "What is it? Ames, what's wrong? Tell me, is it him? Again?"

"Yes."

Her voice was low, so small like a wounded kitten that he felt immediate rage boiling inside him. What did that bastard do this time? Stood her up for another date? Left her alone abruptly in the carnival? Ditch her in another party? That guy could be sweet and then become the number one jerk of the year in a matter of half an hour.

"Where are you? I'll pick you up. Be there in a sec."

"No, Maxon." She cut him off, her voice was unmistakably tired. "I'm home."

Oh. "Okay. Hang on a minute, alright?"

Without waiting for her answer, Maxon hung up. He threw his key on the desk, slamming his laptop closed and in a flash, he's out of the door.

They lived in the same apartment building, her flat only two stories above him. It didn't take long for him to get there, given the fact that he already knew the way and every single other thing about her by heart like no one else.

* * *

"He was here," she said slowly, and Maxon rubbed her back in his ever-so-soothing way it calmed her down. "It's our first anniversary and he- he asked me to have sex with him."

His stomach dropped. No, dear God, he plead inwardly. Once that guy left a mark on his Ames, his chance on winning her over someday would be slim to none.

"I refused though. I- I told him I want to wait until I'm sure, but then he lost it and lashed out on me, calling me things and accused me on not being sure with him after all this time." She choked, and as if on cue his arms went around her middle, pulling her into his arms. If it weren't for the awareness that America was in his arms, Maxon was certain he would have been out of the door by now, marching to Aspen's house and beat the shit out of him.

America noticed this, though. She could feel it, the tension in his body, his embrace unusually tighter as though he was restraining himself from doing something he didn't want himself to do.

"He didn't mean that." She whispered, her hand coming up and down above his spine line. Weirdly calming him though somehow, it's more like she was ensuring herself rather than Maxon.

"To hell if he didn't." He growled.

She sighed, but didn't lose her arms around his neck. "He's just-"

"Half bastard and half prince charming?" Maxon mumbld half-heartedly.

America chuckled, the sound brought a sudden burst of pride in his chest. Making her smile at the end of her darkest day had always been making him slightly proud of himself. "I love you, you know that, right?" She mumbled against his chest.

Yes, he thought bitterly. Just not in the way he wanted her to.

"Sure. And I love you too despite how much of a jerk every single damn guy you've ever been with."

She gasped, pulled away from him as her hand flew to her chest, a fake hurt expression on her face. "Oh, Maxon Schreave, you wound me. Right. Here." She clutched the fabric over her chest, pretending as if she had a heart attack.

Maxon rolled his eyes, though there's an amused gleam danced in his eyes. "You're unbelievable." He muttered.

She smiled wickedly, all the while making him questioned himself was that merely seconds ago that she was crying in his arms. Looking down at his damp shirt - yes, it was. "Oh, but that's why you love me, is that not?"

Her best friend pursed his lips, fighting the urge to just blurt out the confession he had been mulling over for long. But no, not today. Someday, perhaps. When she realized that there's nothing she could hope for anymore in that excuse of a human called Aspen Ledger. If only she could see how mean the guy treated her and look around her; that he's here. He had been here all along.

"Whatever. Anyway, you want me to stay?" He asked, suppressing the hopeful tone creeping into his voice.

The red-headed girl in front of him seemed to be contemplating his offer for a while, her expression turned back into a somber one all of a sudden.

"No, I think I have to learn to cope with my own problems from now on."

Maybe it was because of the apparent hurt in his face, he suspected as the reason why she quickly added as if it was an afterthought. "But thank you. You know how much I appreciate all of this."

He nodded, forcing a smile as he did that, all the while trying so hard not to let on his feelings. "Okay. I'll make you a cheer-up breakfast, tomorrow, though. How does that sound?"

When she grinned so wide in response and nodded vigorously like a little kid, it was as though the pang of hurt had never hit him before.

* * *

"What on earth are you doing here?" She heard a much familiar voice from the doorway. Aspen.

"Like usual, picking up her pieces of broken heart over a bastard known as Aspen Ledger."

There was a snort, and America half suspected Aspen would just storm past Maxon anyway, ignoring his sarcastic comment. She was wrong.

"Oh, are you now really?"

She knew that tone. It was Aspen's sign on picking up a fight. And that was the last thing on her mind: Aspen and Maxon got into a fight right in her own doorway, in a very fine morning like this where she damn wished it to not be ruined. But she had yet to move from her spot, hiding behind her bedroom door. Not until situation was out of hand, and she's forced to leave her spot.

"She's my best friend in the world and you fucking hurt her! What the hell were you thinking?"

"That's none of your business. And for God's sake I didn't hurt her! Just- get your ass out of her apartment. I'm going in."

"No, you aren't."

It was silent for a few icy moments before Aspen's voice broke through it in an eerie calm kind of way. "You love her."

He said it like a statement, not a question, which startled her. Her heart picked up pace as she waited for Maxon's answer. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't anyone?"

Aspen laughed, a bitter laugh that sent chills down her spine. "No. Not that kind of way a best friend is supposed to, but in a way I _should_."

This time, it's Maxon who laughed tantalizingly. "Listen to you. Like you should? So you now don't love her anymore? Shame. I should've guessed."

And it felt like her soul was shattered into a million pieces. Did Aspen really not love her anymore? Since when? Did everything they have been through lately were all for nothing? And Maxon. Did Aspen really just see through him? That his accusation was true? She thought Maxon was her best friend. There's nothing more than that between them, that's just it. She had known Maxon since forever and there's no way he could have-

"Just get your ass out of my way."

Now she was officially freaking out. Even though without seeing him, she knew Aspen was speaking through gritted teeth, willing himself so hard not to lose control. Inwardly, she chanted for Maxon to just let it go and not rile him up further.

No such luck.

"Or what?"

The sound of fist meeting what she assumed was Maxon's face was the last straw. America jumped out of her hiding spot, and dashed pas the living room, straight to the door.

And it was only to find Maxon leaning against the wall with bleeding mouth, probably gotten caught off guard wuth Aspen's sudden move. His hand had balled into fist, and America knew him well enough that he'd strike back if she didn't prevent that.

"Enough."

The two men turned, obviously surprised to see her up and about. Her bedhair appearance somehow crossed her mind, but she opted to ignore it. An issue in hand was something way more important.

"Aspen, you do not just go punching everyone like they're your punching bag, especially in my house! Maxon, just stop riling him up for God's sake!"

Her outburst evidently shocked both men in the room. America's commonly known for her determination and temper sometimes, yes, but around Aspen or Maxon? Never once the said side of her surfaced. All because the former had her swept over her knees while the latter simply just brought the best out of her.

Aspen's stare pierced through her, and it took everything in her to not just look away or beg for forgiveness. No, she wouldn't stoop so low after what she had heard.

Not again.

"Choose." The way he said it, Aspen wasn't asking. He was ordering her to.

Bewildered, America just stared dumbly and asked, "What?"

Her jackass of a boyfriend sneered. "Choose. Which of us you want to stay."

Her mind was yet to comprehend what the meaning behind his order-sort-of. Hence weakly, America just shook her head. "I don't want any of you to stay today."

Upon hearing answer, Aspen took one step forward, even though his way later was quickly blocked by Maxon. His gaze was definitely intimidating, that one he used whenever he wanted to get something he want, at whatever cost.

"I said, choose."

Suddenly she knew where this conversation was heading. Aspen wouldn't ask her to choose if he didn't have a clear purpose behind it. Obviously he was going to uphold his dignity after being rejected-sort-of, with showing her that he still owned her no matter what. If she chose Maxon over him, he would end everything they ever had. She didn't want them to end, not yet. Despite all he'd done, deep down America still wanted Aspen; and he knew that well to use that for his advantages. But there was also Maxon.

She looked at her bleeding best friend. He stood up for her, which resulted a bastard she called her boyfriend punching him, all merely for her sake. Maxon had been in her life for so long she just couldn't think of her life without him. He was like a part of her, the constant thing in her life that losing him would feel like ripping half of her soul apart. Not to mention that choosing her boyfriend over him would feel like a huge betrayal, even more so than if she didn't choose Aspen and stand by him instead.

In the split second she glanced at him, all memories they had done together came rushing back into her mind. Maxon was there, always, ever since she cried over her first boyfriend; until now. He was there when she fell from her bicycle, or when her mother scared her wits by lashing out on her after her grade ricocheting down the hill. His window was always open at night for her to sneak in, seeking for comfort after a frustrating day. She remembered them dancing to the song in the radio in the middle of the night, or when they watched the same movie they had been watching ever since they were still little kids and debated over it relentlessly for the rest of the afternoon.

Whoever her boyfriend was, at the end of the day, it all would end up with her sitting on Maxon's comfy old couch, them telling each other about their day. Not anyone else's couch, or listening to someone else's story, just them and their own little world.

Her decision was made. Boyfriends she could always look for; Aspen wasn't the only guy there was in the world anyway. But there was only one Maxon Calix Schreave, and America was never planning on losing him. Not now, not ever.

She strided purposely toward Maxon, gently prying his hand covering his mouth. The surprise in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by her, though she chose to ignore it.

"You're standing right at the exit way, if you haven't noticed." She said without looking away from examining Maxon's jaw, where the bruise was evidently beginning to form.

When Aspen didn't make any move, she finally looked at him. The hurt written on his face shocked her, though she pretended to not notice.

"Why?" He demanded.

America shrugged. "Lots of guys could be my boyfriend. But no one could be the best friend like Maxon for me. I'd choose him over any boyfriends anyway, because at the end of the day, it's always him I end up with. Not anyone else."

With gritted teeth though lack of any more words, Aspen stalked out of her flat. Though she faintly heard him muttering rather loudly; that she would regret her choice later.

She really hoped she wouldn't.

Wordlessly, her hand came down to grasp his, dragging him to the pantry. She then rummaged into the freezer, looking for some ice pack for Maxon.

It was still silent when she finally sat down on the stool in front of him, holding up the ice pack against his purple-ish skin. Still was when his gaze fell upon her, noticing every single detail about her he'd come to know his entire life.

The way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration when she was thinking, her twinkling eyes whenever she was excited, or how the red strands of her hair falling down like a scarlet waterfall on her shoulders. Her skin looked so soft, and he remembered the times when his own brushed some part of hers; even softer than it seemed.

"Is it true?"

Her voice startled him, suddenly he's horrified if she'd caught him staring. If she did, though, she didn't show it. Her eyes were transfixed to her fidgeting hands on her lap.

Playing dumb, he asked. "Is what true?"

She scoffed, finally then looked at him. "What Aspen said. That you- feel something for me not in a way a best friend should, but in the very way _he _should."

Her words were like a whisper in the wind, so soft and vulnerable and all he wanted was to pull her into his arms like he used to whenever she felt weak. But this time, it didn't seem like she's up to it. The stool she was sitting on was too far from his reach, he would fall face first to the floor if he tried to reach her.

Then there was also another problem. How was he supposed to answer her question? For so long he'd been managing on keeping his emotions at bay, upholding their friendship instead of his own ego. This time, all his doing would be for nothing. If he decided to tell her, it pretty much would be the same with him wearing his heart on his sleeves. Laying out all there was, at the same time jeopardizing their long-time friendship.

A small part of him screamed to just go for it, ignoring the aftermath's possibility of her drifting away from him; meaning he'd lose her. It had been so long anyway, that part of him seemed to be exhausted enough on holding up his feelings. For once, it begged him to think of himself rather than merely America's sake.

The internal debate went too long that even if he denied her question, she would know he's lying the second he said no.

So it's set. He hopped down from the stool he sat on, strided purposely to her and put his finger under her chin, pulling her to look at him. "Yes." He said, determined. "I do."

He could feel her chin quivered in his grasp, but he didn't let go. His hand found hers, and he prayed and wished and hoped that she wouldn't jerk away.

She didn't. And for that he was grateful. There's a first good sign.

"Since when?" It was as if her throat had suddenly gone dry. Her voice hoarse, uncertainty filled her eyes.

He thought about this for a moment. When did his feelings for her become something more? Didn't take long for him afterwards to remember.

"Since that day I saw you cried over your first boyfriend, I guess. All I wanted was to punch him for hurting you, that I wouldn't do it in a million years had I been given a chance to love you. Be with you. And that's when I knew. My feelings- they'd grown into something more than what I am supposed to own."

She blinked slowly, trying to remember the old time. Well, she did recall he looked so angry in one second, then bewildered in the next one, hesitant near the end; though that didn't take long for him to get back to how Maxon Schreave usually was. So that's why.

"So all those girlfriends..." She trailed off, unable to voice out her thoughts. No, she knew Maxon wasn't that type of guy who played around with girls for fun only.

"Two reasons. One, I kept telling myself that my feelings were temporary, that there's no way I could have fallen for my best friend. Having girlfriends was to prove that. Two, for appearance's sake, just so people wouldn't suspect me for being gay or something."

Oh. But still. Knowing now that there was more in him for her than what she knew before could be too much to digest in a day, let alone a few minutes. She didn't want to risk her friendship with involving their feelings, not to mention that she couldn't tell him if she returned the same kind of affection.

Noticing her hesitancy, he only sighed. He knew the risk, he'd prepared for this, but still: it hurt. To own a feelings unrequitedly, to love someone yet sans any return of feelings. The stake of falling for his best friend was high, yes, but after all this time: he needed her to know. He couldn't just keep it forever. Maybe this was the right time God sent to him to finally confess what had been in his mind for so long, at the same time it could also be the wrong moment. Either way, he didn't care. What to be said had been said, he couldn't take back his words even if he wanted to.

Maxon stood up, squeezing her hand while doing so. "It's not easy to dwell on, I know. I'm not asking you to overthink it, let alone requite it. No, this is my feelings I'm putting at stake, not yours. I do appreciate you choosing me over Aspen, but I'm also well aware of your feelings for him. I promise you, this will not change a thing. I'll give you space, but after that we'll talk about this no more, okay? Just-" he hesitated. "Forget that I ever said anything."

America looked up, the gleam in her eyes was so heartbreaking that he didn't know what to do. He wanted to stay, but space was all they both needed at the time. His chest felt heavy, but this was necessary. He'd almost ruined his precious friendship with her, there's no way he would ruin it any worse.

Hence he opted to just give her a lingering kiss on her forehead instead, oblivious to the sudden electricity and burst of warmth went down her entire being all at once.

* * *

Picture-set by: **making-all-those-same-mistakes **_dot _**tumblr **_dot _**com**

Link to post in my profile.


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